What is this fog? What is this haze? What is this darkness? Why do I feel so confused?

Wait, I see. It's clear now. It is a lie; the world is wrong. I am okay. I am alive. How I love being alive. I am naked, alone, and helpless. But wait, I'm not alone. I feel the air on my skin. I feel the wonder of the warming sun on every square inch, head to toe. I feel the love all around me from a higher source. I am not here by chance--indeed I am loved. I am part of a plan. I am beautiful like the rocks, the trees, the deer, the birds, the dirt, the grass, and the sky. I am a son of God himself. How could I have missed it? I am a new person. I must tell the world. How could they have missed it? Surely they can see too.

But the world condemns me. I am evil. I am mistaken. They tell me, "It is not childhood innocence that you've rediscovered, but Satan. How on earth could you be so mistaken?" One by one they fall, every single one. They hate me. What on earth have I done? My life-long friends have forsaken me, every last one. Don't they see? I'm innocent. I'm beautiful. I'm a son of God. I hurt and I don't know why.

The depths of despair are mine to bear alone, nobody seems to really understand. But then, out of the darkness, friends appear. They gather around; they gather near; they understand. They have found joy too. Slowly, but surely, I feel less confused. Yet what to do--indeed, what to do?

A friend says not to worry, I can help. For I see in you the beauty that you have felt. I will help you see, because I have a very special gift.

I follow, and sure enough, I see. My friend has seen true beauty in me. It is clear again, the love I feel. How could I have missed it? it was here all along.

Back to the mountains to feel the love of life, I'm naked again. Just me and this truly marvelous earth and the wonderful sky. But this time it's different. I'm so far from alone. Many, many others join me. They see the beauty that I see. Life is so good. I am surrounded by true beauty and true love. A more blessed person could not possibly have ever lived.

And yet, I am confused. Why do so many want to take this from me? Why do they hate me so? Surrounded by so much love, I hurt, and I don't know why.

But more friends I find. They too can see, and also possess a special gift to help me. It is clear again. I am wonderful, special, and beautiful.

And yet the voices come. "Why are you doing this? Why are you defiling yourself?" I am not. I am beautiful. Can you not see? I need you to see, because it is clear to me. Why are you blind? Why do you choose to be?

The cold and dark days of winter come. They're unavoidable now, and the mountains will be taken from me for a while. How will I endure? They support me. They help me. They allow me to see. The deer, the rabbits--they are me. I know them; they know me. And yet they run from others seeking harm. I could not hurt them, such beautiful creatures. With them I am one. They have helped me to see and taught me love. I hurt and I don't know why.

The pressure surrounds me. I have sought to show the world as best I can. I must help, for I have been so blessed and been shown so much love. And yet I am so weak, so incapable, and useless. Others can see--it is on full display. There is no way to hide, there is nowhere to run. Whatever shall I do? They depend on me, and I cannot fail.

But fail I do; it seems inevitable for me. I am falling, endlessly, hopelessly. Again I hurt, and I don't know why.

From the darkness so many appear. They wish to stop my fall. How can I let them, for I have failed and now I must fall. I must go straight to hell. It is where I belong. It is what I have earned. Confusion returns. What to do, where to turn? I have done it all to myself.